Comfortably Numb

Chapter One

Darkness surrounds me completely. I can't see an inch past my face but I know that I am not alone. I can feel him here with me; his chest inches behind my back, his hand wrapped tightly around mine. His grip tightens and I smile. "Just breathe, Meda. Just breathe." He whispers into my ear. Excitement bounces off of him, dancing along his words.
Anticipation slides down my spine and settles in the pit of my stomach. I suck in a deep breath and squeeze his hand that still rests in mine.

"Places!" The hiss flies across the dark.

I suck in a final deep breath before the moment we've been waiting for and then I gently lift my left leg into the air. I freeze in place as I reach the perfect spot, exactly two inches from his torso. Perfect. My arms flow over my head, prepping for the first sequence. And finally, my already ramrod straight back straightens that tiny bit more. He slips his hands around the curve of my waist; this gives me the balance I need to be able to travel onto the tips of my toes.
Balanced in our first position,  I freeze.

"Breathe" He sighs again.
I nod silently and then the curtain comes into view. Looking around, all that I can see is the glowing red velvet. And then it starts to rise. It's almost like the curtain was a sound barrier, because the further up it travels, the more noises are revealed. I can hear the echoing applause now; it's bouncing off of the stone walls that surround us. I can hear the quiet plucking of the orchestra as they prepare for their job. The slight hum of people talking and the hush that travels its way across the full theatre as they realize the curtain is being lifted.

A single spotlight is turned on, and I realize with a start that the curtain is now fully up. I feel as if I am completely bare to the world. Panic grips me, but something-or someone- stops that with a gentle squeeze of my hips. He's still here. I can do this. I force a wider smile and begin to count the steps. We move together, flowing gracefully across the stage.
1, 2, 3,
1, 2, 3,
1, 2, 3, 1, 2....
I spin away from his hold as the music swells, and just as I throw my body into the air, the spotlight that has been trained on us as we moved shatters. The dark from before slams back over us, impossibly darker than it was before.

The calm and excitement I had been feeling with him wrapped around me deserts me. I am left standing alone in the darkness, a sense of foreboding making my stomach clench and setting my finally steady heartbeat off in a sprint once again.

I cannot hear anything except for the skittering of glass across the hardwood of the stage, and it's like my world has been covered by a blanket. Fear is creeping over me. I feel as if the oxygen has been drained from the air, and there is no hope. I spin around and around and around, searching for somebody, anybody. I need to find him, just so that I can know he is ok. The longer we spend apart the more my heart begins to race and the more terror grips my body and soul.

I spin again, and this time a dim light catches my eye. I pause, lean forward and start squinting in hopes of discovering what the light source is. Once I do, I gasp and rush towards it-towards him. I ignore the dripping red liquid that seems to be coming from gaping holes in his wrists and throat; I push forward in desperate blindness.

I reach him just in time to hear the quiet sigh that seems to be his last breath. I collapse at his side and pull his limp body into my arms; pushing desperately against his wounds to stop the dripping blood. A sob tumbles from my lips. "No! No!" I cry, hands fluttering uselessly between his gaping wounds. I try to force the warm sticky substance back into his wounds, but there is so much. He's coated in it; it's pooling around us and my own hands are stained a deep red. Tears are flying down my face as I scream. "Don't leave me, please!"

"Andromeda." That voice will haunt me for the rest of my life. It sounds cold, detached, and above all angry.  I refuse to let go of his limp body to search for the man behind that voice; instead, I pull him closer like a shield.